


a fortune's blessing

by NeverNothing



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Others Mentioned - Freeform, Politics, mentions of Toxic Masculinity, mentions of discrimination, mentions of gender roles, minor descriptions of sex, sounds like a fun time aye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25557667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverNothing/pseuds/NeverNothing
Summary: "Announcing the imperial decree: Lord Kenma is to be wedded into the royal palace, as His emperor’s consort."As a consequence of peace negotiations between warring nations, Kenma marries into the royal family of Shiratorizawa.or: my fill for KenmaShipWeek2020 Day one: Royalty AU
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 54
Collections: Kenma Ship Week 2020





	a fortune's blessing

**Author's Note:**

> I started something and I lost all control, this whole thing is such a tease for a broader scheme i am SO SORRY i couldn't help myself lskfd
> 
> also, huge shoutout to [carro](https://twitter.com/carrochan) for helping me out so much!

Public announcements had proclaimed that the peace negotiations between Shiratorizawa and Nekoma would be concluded on that day. Countless people had gathered in the streets, awaiting the imperial decree that would be issued once the two parties had reached an agreement.

The scuffle of an eunuchs step let the crowd quiet down. With a loud and nasal voice, he bellowed:

“Announcing the imperial decree! Lord Kenma, second son of house Kozume, of Nekoma’s noble lineage, of soft temperament and extravagant beauty, who has collected renown with his literary knowledge and poetical skill,with outstanding upbringing, has shown great devotion to his country and is yet willing to abrogate his ties and serve His Emperor with an even greater devotion.

He is to be wedded into the royal palace, as His Emperor’s consort.”

The uproar the announcement caused was almost impossible to control. It took days to manage the public’s arousal, to make sure the outcry was well contained, lest it reached the Emperor’s spying ears. The marriage was a necessity, the ministers knew, but they still advised against it. Years of war between Shiratorizawa and Nekoma that showed them victorious had drained their Royal Treasury and impoverished their subjects. Any more warfare and they might be facing a revolt, that much was sure. Peace was the only option. 

Peace negotiations with the scorn nations had been exhausting to everyone involved. Years of grudges could not possibly be resolved that simply. Both sides were unwilling when marriage was mentioned but it soon appeared to be the only viable option.

Lord Kenma had been chosen as the Emperor’s consort despite the heated discussions the proposal had caused. His gender was secondary to the political implications marrying him would entail. Politically, it was the right and only choice.

But despite the attempts to prevent it, concerns still reached the streets and the necessity of the marriage was not something the common folk could grasp. 

“A male consort? That is unheard of!”

“He wouldn’t be the emperor’s prime consort anyway, third at most.”

“But why a male?”

“The house of that foreign noble house only has male descendants, it seems.”

“But why that house then?”

“This whole sham of a marriage was to appease the elders and noble men of our neighboring countries anyway. Nothing to put your mind into. That male consort is going to wither away in his provided accommodations. Blasphemous that our Empress has to provide for someone like that!”

“He is going to be part of the royal harem? But that’s a woman’s place!”

“How dare you discuss state affairs! If someone heard, it might be your death!”

The citizens that had gathered scattered, afraid of the consequences. And yet, the rumors did not die down. As if a fire had been set, it kept getting fed until the whole nation knew about it.

It was the talk of every conversation one could overhear at food stalls and markets. Even the ministers themselves, who had taken a role in deciding on the marriage in the end, were unable to keep quiet. 

The fire still hadn’t died down by the time the envoy arrived. Citizens gathering at street vendors still mostly talked about that one topic. The public’s opinion painted Lord Kenma to be a beauty that rivalled even the Empress herself. Some saw him as the offspring of their enemy, the others’ saw him as a traitor to his own country. The scandal of a man entering the emperor’s harem led to speculation. How would Her Empress handle it? 

His political status guaranteed his life but not much more could be expected. People wondered when the first accusation would reach their ears that would most definitely lead to Lord Kenma’s deserved death. An easy excuse, a way out.

Those whispers reached far; even Kenma heard of them. Even now, as his envoy reached the capital, it was not the first time he heard citizens talk. He was met with the same reiterations about him at every inn they rested at the moment they crossed state borders. He had grown tired of it.

“Say, Kenma–”

Kenma hummed, trying to ignore the headache that had made itself known some time after they had left the last inn. 

Akane, who was accompanying him as his maid-to-be and had been restless during their entire travel, seemed calmer now, as she sat beside him and looked up at him with a seriousness that belied her age. Kenma sat up straighter when he noticed and faced her properly. “What is it?”

“We are accompanying you to get married, right?” 

Kenma only nodded. He had told her as much when they first left Nekoma’s capital.

“Is it you those people are talking about?”

_ Ah _ , of course she had heard it, too. Choosing his words carefully, he tried to explain as best as possible.

“They are.” He affirmed at first.

“But why are they talking badly about you?” The ever so innocent Akane asked.

The question made Kenma smile as he leaned back, his head resting against the wooden wall of the carriage. “People in this country are close-minded, Akane. They think a wedding between two people of the same gender is wrong.”

Akane gasped. “But why?”

“I don’t know either.” Kenma smiled. “They don’t like that it is me.”

“Just because you are a boy?”

“Mostly, yes.”

“But then, why are you the one marrying?” Akane was biting her lips and Kenma could tell she was holding back a question. A question that would be something along the lines of  _ are you in love? _ It was smart of her to not voice it, as the answer was as obvious as it was depressing.

“It’s because of Kuro and I; because we are close.” Him and Kuro, or rather King Tetsurou, were bosom friends and had grown up together. 

“‘There is no one closer to King Tetsurou, no one he trusts more, than Lord Kenma.’” Kenma still heard the voices as he repeated the statement that had caused this, not even trying to hide the sarcasm. He was oddly expressive but the situation itself was too ironic. 

Later, once they arrived at Shiratorizawa’s capital, Kenma would have to school himself into a picture of calmness. He decided it was for the best to voice his bitterness at least once. Akane would stay with him, he could trust her. Maybe she would be the only one he could trust when he was inside the palace.

“It had to be me, since Shiratorizawa wants absolute surety. They want Nekoma to hurt when letting the bride go. You know, Kuro is an only child, he has no sisters to marry off.” Akane’s nose turned up at the words  _ marry off _ . She disliked the idea as much as he did. “He has no living relatives except the former king and he doesn’t have children of his own yet.

“If we want peace, there needs to be a marriage to connect the countries. Don’t worry, Kuro and I talked about it. He was more against it than I was. Don’t be mad at him.”

“But why are you the one that has to marry?” Akane’s voice had turned whiny and she was pulling at his robe. 

Resting his hand on top of hers, he continued. “Since Kuro has no relatives to marry off, and since Shiratorizawa’s emperor has no one to marry off either, they decided a renowned noble house of Nekoma should marry into the Royal family.” Shiratorizawa had the upper hand in the negotiations, as the winner of the war. “And who do you think of when you hear ‘ _ Noble Family of Nekoma _ ?’”

Once again, Akane gasped. She seemed to realize. “The Kozume household.”

Kenma nodded. “You are right. It’s us.” It was well known, not only in their country but in the neighboring ones as well, that his family shared a close connection with the royal family of Nekoma. As long as the Kuroo’s had been in power, the Kozume’s had been influential. The only thing their two houses did not share was blood.

“So, if Kuro wants to show his sincerity, for the sake of his citizens, he had to agree to marry off someone from my family.” Kenma paused, again, to let the irony sink in. “And who, except for me, can it possibly be? 

I only have one legitimate sibling. My brother, who is supposed to inherit our household. It can’t be him. There is also no way we are marrying an illegitimate daughter into the royal family of Shiratorizawa. They would be offended. So, the obvious choice was me,  _ is _ me.”

In the enclosed space, Kenma’s words rang with the finality he had felt the first time he, too, had come to that conclusion. His close relation to Kuro as well the name he had made for himself with the poems he had published made sure he was known across all nations. It made sure there was no way for him to get out of this unscathed.

Akane puffed her cheeks and huffed. “But why don’t they like you? People always praise you for your poetry. Aren’t you famous?”

“People are hard to understand, sometimes, Akane.” She whined about the situation being too complicated for her to understand, “The citizens of Shiratorizawa might just be confused. They don’t want a man to marry their Emperor, especially if the man is not really a man in their eyes–“

“What do you mean, no man!” Akane interrupted, jostling the carriage with her fervor. There was a fire in her eyes that made Kenma smile again, even if sadly.

“People heard about me. They heard about my intelligence but also that I have no military or political renown. That kind of thing is important for people in Shiratorizawa. They just heard that I am sickly. Of course they look down on me.” Kenma chuckled as, once again, he became aware of the situation that awaited him. “Of course they talk about me.”

“But–”

Knowing what she was going to say, Kenma turned sharply. “This is important, Akane.  _ I have no political or military gains to call mine _ , do you understand? My life depends on it.”

Her voice was small when she nodded in affirmation. 

Ruffling her carefully braided hair, he smiled at Akane, easing the tension. She was still young, she would understand it at a later time.

“Don’t worry, Kuro and I made plans. I am prepared.” No matter what he said, the situation was not favorable for him. The necessity of a marriage to calm the war-stricken citizens, to give Nekoma a chance to recuperate from years of war, was a priority. Kuro and him shared that thought. Giving up his closest kin was the biggest sacrifice King Tetsurou could and would make to appease Shiratorizawa.

It was a sacrifice both him and Kuro were willing to make. 

But that did not mean they would just let Shiratorizawa trample all over them. They had their pride. Kenma had his pride as a citizen of Nekoma and Kuro believed in him.

Kenma sighed. During these last few months, he had grown tired of thinking about the situation. Each passing day made it inevitable to ignore and Kenma had a tendency to overthink anyway. Even though he was not as bad as Kuro by far.

He had also grown tired of being stuck in this carriage that was too small and confining. The wooden walls of his carriage and silk of his cushions had lost their appeal a week into their travel. Even though Kenma was not particularly fond of traveling by horse as it exhausted him, he would gladly exchange the carriage for a horseback for the sole sake of a change of scenery. The travel had exhausted him, the rocky path spiking his annoyance. 

Passing the familiar territory of his homeland, past the cities and towns they used to visit as they would supervise their local economy and solve problems that arose, Kenma tried not to think about it. About never seeing his home again. About getting used to a country that, while not all that foreign, was still strange.

Akane was fascinated with the view, often peeking out of the carriage. The gravity of her situation has not settled in for her yet but she was still young after all. She did not fully understand yet. Akane would be the only one staying with him after the marriage rituals had been concluded. The only piece of home he could retain. Kenma was glad for her presence but at the same time he pitied her. Pitied her as well as Tora, her older brother and a good friend of his. Who would have to return without her.

Aside from Akane, Kenma’s envoy consisted of Yaku, a Lord of Nekoma and dear friend of King Tetsurou, who was in charge of his security during the travel, Tora – Akane’s brother and heir to the Yamamoto household, as well as a couple of servants. Tora had joined the envoy to escort his sister, Yaku because he was the only one Kuro trusted enough to protect Kenma along the way.

Having known both of them for a long time, their company on his journey was a comfort. He would have to say goodbye to them soon, too.

Despite his racing thoughts, he kept a calm demeanor. He was aware where he was heading. What awaited him. Worrying about others was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

What others said would not matter much, the politics he would inescapably be involved in, the intricacies of a life in the palace and the conspiracies were far more important. Life at the palace was far removed from the public’s eye, after all. The unfavorable public’s opinion was unfortunate but still within the scope he came to expect. He would get used to the strangeness. Kenma knew his duty.

Before the wedding, Kenma and his entourage would reside at the place of Lord Shirabu and his heir. They would provide for him until it was time to officially enter the palace in marriage, only little more than a week’s time.

They were greeted with the respect their status deserved. The whole family gathered in front of the gates to escort Kenma, servants forming a half circle around them to keep onlookers away.

Encouragingly, Kenma smiled at Akane, who was already nervously wrangling her hands, one last time. “Come, let’s enter the lion’s den. As long as you’re with me, you are going to be alright.”

Kenma was in no position to make such promises, but it helped calm Akane down considerably.

While Yaku and Tora stood by the side respectfully, Kenma exited the carriage gracefully, extending an arm to Akane for support he did not need but was expected to receive. The robes he was wearing were traditional in Nekoma. Wide open sleeves and a slim cut of light flowing fabric against the summer’s heat, it was not quite women's clothing but not exactly men’s wear either. Keeping his skin covered with multiple layers of thin white fabric, the dark embroideries shimmered through the translucence when he moved. The wrapping around his waist, dark as well, was holding the layers closed, making it appropriate. 

Compared to the style of Shiratorizawa, the silhouette was slimmer, focused on flowing lines and only little quirkiness. Steadfast without being suffocating to wear, it was flattering the curves of women and lines of men. Kenma felt more comfortable in a robe such as he was wearing. The heavy and tied-up robes of Shiratorizawa seemed stifling to wear. Additionally, his role in the harem in contrast to his gender would make it difficult to decide on a form of dress. He did not look forward to giving up and going along with what form of dress was demanded of him. It would decide whether they accepted his gender or just saw his role as a consort.

Aware that his choice of clothing accentuated the natural elegance people of Nekoma were known for, he held his head high and kept the slope of his shoulders demure. For now, he was still representing his nation.

It proved difficult to judge if the welcome was warm. It might as well have been hostile but the courtesy bound them to tone it down. The family’s greeting itself mirrored how Kenma expected his arrival would be received. The Lord’s son seemed hopeful and friendly, the Main Lady was trying to reign in her hostility and the Lord troubled himself to appear neutral as they were escorted inside the residence. It almost made Kenma laugh.

Lord Shirabu's residence spoke of wealth. The wealth their nation was known for, the wealth they had received after winning countless wars. The wealth that was now threatened due to their frequent wars. The reason Kenma was here. 

The entrance gate was grand and dark-wooded. Behind it, they were greeted with landish gardens and polished stone paths leading the way to their respective places. Koi ponds and lavish green, orange and lilac flowers as well as servants scuttling soundlessly. Despite being busy, the residence portrayed a picture of calmness.

However, even the servants were unable to avert their gazes completely, as Kenma moved past them, disrupting the undisturbed air minutely. Kenma only hoped that the rumor of his arrival would not leave the residence. It was his last week of peace. Considering the scathing look Lord Shirabu was sending the head servant while they were passing, Kenma was assured the information would be well contained.

“This is where the Future Consort will be residing for the meantime.” They had just arrived at the courtyard. Behind the open gates, maids were still busy preparing for their arrival. 

“Thank you, Mylord.” Kenma expressed his appreciation, indicating a bow, and the lord excused himself quickly – to let Kenma rest after his tiring travel.

The quarters that were provided for Kenma and his entourage, the few that stayed until the marriage, were spacious. Cloth draped along high walls and ornaments dyed with a golden tinge. Kenma had expected such displays of wealth from the royal palace, not in the residence of an official, no matter how important.

As far as Kenma was aware, Lord Shirabu was a high official and in charge of the royal treasury but was nearing the age to retire. His son and heir had been currying favour with the emperor from the time the emperor had still been the Crown Prince. Entering the palace as an official himself, they seemed to work together well enough and the succession of his father’s official’s position was sure.

Their household had been chosen to welcome Kenma to their capital. It was considered an honor. Even after the wedding, Lord Shirabu would provide for Kenma’s entourage until it was time for them to leave a few days later. 

“Kenma, do you want to take a look around the capital?” Tora asked. They had just finished settling in and were having freshly brewed tea. Their hosts were certainly not holding back their graces, providing them with expensive herbs.

“Right, we should still have some time until we are expected for dinner,” Yaku added, setting his teacup down, and stared at Kenma expectantly.

Humming, Kenma did not think long about the proposal. The opportunities to see the city he would be living in were diminishing the more time passed. There was no telling when he would be able to leave the palace. Even though he was tired, right now was the best moment to experience the city.

After Yaku and Tora had finished changing into more casual clothes and after Kenma had shed some of his layers, they set out, leaving their servants behind.

As Kenma had expected, the air felt different. The buzz of mingling conversation and the energy of citizens pursuing their daily routine was the same but it felt far from it. The air was humid and colder than Kenma was used to – Nekoma was known for its dry summer heat that Kenma loathed and its mild winters that Kenma was glad for. In Shiratorizawa, winters were cold and summers humid. It would be almost unbearable for Kenma, who hated both the heat and the cold.

It was noon and the city was bustling, strings of people creating a flow to the capital’s centre where stalls were selling food or embroidered goods. Their group followed it, passing booth after booth. Despite the impression the residence of Lord Shirabu had given them, most buildings in the capital were of light wood, canopied by white cloth.

Walking around the busy streets, Kenma realized that the kind of information he was looking for the most as part of his preparation to enter the palace was not easily overheard amidst the streets.

Stopping in his steps, Kenma turned to his company, eyeing both Yaku and Tora who had been idly commenting on their impressions before. “You two better set out to try and gather information.” 

Kenma did not even bother to articulate it as a request when it clearly wasn’t. He needed to know what would await him behind the stone walls of the harem. There was only one place they could gather that kind of information. It was a place Kenma should no longer be seen at, even though his identity was hidden. His encounters with citizens had shown him that it would raise eyebrows if he were to enter a brothel. They saw him as a Lady and Kenma had no intention to fix that impression as it made hiding his identity so much easier.

Yaku frowned. “You know I’m not fond of those places.”

“Get some food, accompany some pretty ladies and have some fun, it’s alright.” It’s necessary, is what rang clear and Yaku sighed.

“Alright.” He checked their surroundings. “What are you planning to do in the meantime? I can’t leave you without a guard.”

Kenma considered his options. There were potential dangers to him wandering the streets alone with only Akane to accompany him. They made an easy target. On the other hand, no one knew who he really was. As it appeared, everyone they had met mistook him as a young lady from an official’s house. Walking around with his maid would not raise any eyebrows. There was no need to be overly cautious. 

Thus, Kenma spent the day wandering along the streets of the capital, still covered in welcome anonymity. Paying attention to the layout of the streets, listening in to the conversations of citizens beside him at the street booth – he heard himself as the topic multiple times but choose to disregard it – he familiarized himself with the new environment, took a stroll along the river, watching the boatmen shout greetings at each other.

People were still the same. They went around on their business, trying to make a living selling goods and idly talking to acquaintances. The bustle of activity felt alive and without fear, even if it was suffocating at times. It felt like peace. Peace Kenma would bring to Nekoma.

And yet, he absorbed any information he gained access to. It might prove useful later on.

Only a few days later, Kenma entered the palace for the first time. He had received an imperial decree.

Kenma surmised it would be the first time he would meet the man he was to be wedded to. Even someone like the emperor would want to see the one they were supposed to marry, no matter how inappropriate it may seem. No one in their right mind would contradict the emperor. And yet, Kenma could see no reasons for them to meet before the wedding. No matter what, the marriage would not be impeded.

The palace walls were imposing, reaching higher than the ones he had seen in Nekoma and maybe ten times his height. It was hard to see the sky as the carriage was led inside.

Passing by the audience hall, Kenma spied idling and conversing ministers on the wide and open plaza in front. It must not have been long that the audience was concluded.

Kenma himself soon lost his sense of direction, heightened by the request to keep the curtains to his carriage shut. When it was time to leave the carriage, Kenma was already lost.

Directed by the entourage that had fetched him from Lord Shirabu’s residence, he was led deeper into the palace. The emperor would meet him in his study, so he was told. The eunuch took small, quick steps as he led him and without a thought, Kenma matched his pace.

When he was summoned, Kenma entered the royal study with silent steps and a bowed head as the custom of Shiratorizawa demanded. Back home, he never bowed. Kuro never cared about that anyway, if it was him. 

Now, stared down by the oppressive weight of golden splendor, it was all too easy to feel intimidated. Kenma did not dare to take a closer look at his surroundings, his cautious steps against the stone floor echoed barely.

“You may rise.” 

He did and lifted his head. The emperor, Ushijima Wakatoshi, was an impressive sight. Sitting behind his desk, even though he appeared to have forgone the utmost layer, the silken dark and golden fabric spoke of his absolute power. While his headpiece was not the phoenix crown, it was in no way modest.

And even beneath the outer layer of power, wide shoulders and obviously muscular body with a height to match, he exuded a force to be reckoned with. 

Olive-brown hair revealed a stoic expression and interestedly observing eyes of the same color.

“Your robes –” The emperor stopped himself from voicing his comment and tilted his head to take a closer and more intense look at Kenma instead.

His voice was one that bespoke the authority he was accustomed to. Low and vibrating in a way that sent shivers up Kenma’s spine. Shivers he couldn’t quite place. 

Similarly to what he had worn the day he had arrived, Kenma was wearing layers of flowing fabric, this time colored in light blue half-covered with an almost translucent fabric of a darker blue. His hair was tied up braidlessly, held fastened by a single silver ornament that appeared simple at first sight but held the intricacies of Nekoma’s greatest craftsmanship.

“It’s the traditional clothing for someone of my status, in my homeland, your Majesty.”

The emperor considered him for a moment longer. Kenma did not avert his gaze even though he felt as if he was being thoroughly assessed. “You may keep it.”

“I thank Your Majesty for Your kindness.” He bowed in accordance with his words and rose once again when asked to.

Not offering one more word and instead turning back to the documents on his desk, Kenma was soon excused. On his way back, Kenma was still struggling with his sense of direction and the encounter lingered in his mind, puzzling.

The auspicious day arrived sooner than Kenma would have hoped. The wedding was a considerably small affair. According to customs, Lord Shirabu’s mansion was covered in red silk, announcing Kenma’s presence. Despite the closed door, Kenma heard the servants hastily prepare. The marriage procession would arrive soon.

“It’s time for me to say goodbye.” Kenma spoke calmly, slowly. He had to.

He had already finished getting changed. Now clad in red that was not his country’s, wearing make-up and a heavy headdress that was making his head hurt already.

Tora’s voice was choked up. “Yeah.”

“Tell Kuro I will be fine.” It was the only thing that came to mind. It was the most important message to be passed on. Even though he had left him a letter, Kuro would be worrying.

“We will.”

Behind him, Akane was getting antsy. It seemed the situation was finally settling in for her, too. Tora pulled her aside for a talk and Kenma watched them pull back wistfully.  _ Family. _

“You take care of yourself, Kenma.” Yaku had taken up the conversation again, looking at Kenma with earnest eyes. “Even though we are far away, we care.”

“I know.” A crooked smile passed Kenma’s face. “I know. I have a reason to do this.”

The seriousness of Yaku’s tone was sobering. It reminded Kenma of the path that laid before him. “That is exactly why you have to take care. Your safety comes first.”

Kenma’s features softened. “Thank you, Yaku.”

The wedding procession arrived with firecrackers and music. Kenma was led to the sedan that would bring him into the palace. It was the goodbye. He remained calm. He told himself to remain unmoved. At least he had a picture of his future husband to call on. It eased the anxiety of the unknown. And made him remember the unease he had felt when they had first met.

Seated in the sedan, Kenma arranged his dress, veil already limiting his side. He was wearing layer upon rich layer of red with intricate golden embroideries and royal blue. Neglecting his position, he was a mere concubine marrying into the royal harem. Any amount of fanfare was only to honor the king of Nekoma, to let Kenma enter the palace without shame. The grandness of his clothing was only paying respect to Kuro. It was a pity he couldn’t see it. 

Idly, Kenma wondered if the emperor himself would be there for the ceremony. He heard that in other countries it was no rare occurrence for a consort’s wedding. Replaying the memory of their meeting, it still was not easy for Kenma to judge. The emperor was hard to read. He also wondered what his rank would be, if he would be assigned one. The imperial decree announcing the wedding did not mention it.

Taking a deep breath, Kenma calmed his heart and mind. He would face each situation, step by step. He knew what was awaiting him. He had promised, after all. 

Kowtowing to worship the heaven, the deceased parents of the emperor and the emperor’s throne, the wedding ceremonies passed in a blur. Surrounded by officials and ministers. Without his husband. Kenma was calm.

After the ceremonies, Kenma had been led to the courtyard of the Royal Harem that he would call his starting from that point. It was clad in red too, making it difficult to take in the surroundings properly. He hadn’t seen Akane yet and he was sure he would not see her until tomorrow.

His sleeping chamber was also decorated in a rich red. The carpet, his furniture, everything was draped with red fabric. It was meant to symbolize happiness. It could have been breathtaking but Kenma did not linger on the sight, or on the implications. On the table in front of his bed, an assembly of fruits and cakes had been prepared but despite not eating all day, Kenma did not feel particularly hungry.

Sitting on the red covers, underneath a red-silked canopy, he waited.

Still dressed in his wedding gown, his face covered by the veil, he was not allowed to remove it until the ceremony was completed. The spouse was supposed to remove it before their marriage was consummated. Until that time, their marriage was not fulfilled in the eyes of heaven.

So, Kenma waited.

And waited.

It was hard to keep track of the time as Kenma sat there motionlessly. Counting his breaths, he reached thousands. He remained calm.

Then, the sound of the door rattled open and slid shut. Behind his veil, Kenma had closed his eyes as he was counting, and he had not opened them yet. At first, he thought it was Akane who entered his chambers. But he discarded that thought soon enough. If it was only the two of them, Akane would not stay quiet.

Kenma’s breath hitched. There were only two possibilities. Either, assassins had just entered and he would die, or the emperor had arrived.

Steps drew closer, slowly. 

A deep baritone broke the tension. It was a baritone he had heard before, even if only a few words had been exchanged. “You can look up.”

Expression still well hidden behind his veil, Kenma’s smile was wry. He contemplated his answer and settled on honesty as he raised his head. “I was not sure who to expect.”

“Who except me would you be awaiting?”

The responding silence spoke for itself and seemed to displease the emperor, judging by his tone. “Assassins attacking my Consort would be an outrage punished with death.”

“I am not yet your Consort, Your Majesty.” He was still wearing the veil, after all.

Not able to make out the accompanying expression, Kenma only heard a low chuckle. Then, the emperor changed the topic.

“I was watching the ceremony.” But did not join. Kenma’s thoughts raced with the implications. Fire was added because the emperor did decide to visit him now. Kenma did not have enough time to consider the grand meaning behind these actions.

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Your Majesty.”

“Oh?”

His next words would be dangerous if he mistook the emperor’s intentions. “Excuse me for being daring, but Your Majesty must have wanted to ease my entering the palace.” 

Too much attention would haunt him in a place like the Royal Harem, where a woman’s jealousy reigned. His presence caught enough attention to begin with.

“You are quick. Our meeting before the wedding had caught attention.” He had been right. Kenma was not sure whether to be glad or whether he should be questioning the emperor’s motives.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he settled for, non-committedly.

“You can consider this a promise.” A promise to be treated well, maybe. Or it was a promise that the emperor would honor the arrangements. Whatever kind of promise it might be, a weight had been lifted from Kenma’s shoulders.

“Your Majesty is kind-hearted. This is the second gift I have received.”

Once again, Kenma heard the steps drawing closer, then he heard the shift of fabrics and felt the heat of a body beside him. The emperor had taken a seat beside him. Kenma turned towards him.

Fingers were grasping the fabric, pulling it achingly slow.

“Your robes seem different than the last time.”

“We don’t wear gold often.” Kenma answered as his face was revealed at last, the veil discarded like an unimportant byproduct. He was met with olive-brown eyes, inquiring, even though the gaze seemed shortly to be distracted by the vibrant red of his painted lips. It was popular among Shiratorizawa nobility, Kenma had learned. It seemed too opulent for his taste but as with most differences, he would learn to get used to it.

“These are not the wedding robes you would traditionally wear for marriage, then?”

“No, not exactly.” Noticing the questioning gaze, Kenma elaborated. “These clothes were provided for me by Lord Shirabu. My entourage only came with my dowry. It was deemed wearing traditional Nekoma wedding robes would send the wrong message.”

Once again, Kenma was met with considering silence. Fortunately, he never minded that kind of quiet. “You do look beautiful.”

His eyes flitting over the emperor’s face to assess the sincerity of the statement, Kenma was pleased with the answer he found. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Sitting beside each other, their bodies not even touching, the emperor made no further move. According to tradition, after the removal of the veil, they were officially wedded. If the emperor had no intention to consummate their marriage, he could leave now. 

But he didn’t.

Considering the form of his husband carefully, he noticed the twitch in his shoulders. Was he uneasy?

Carefully, Kenma chose his next words. "Despite being wedded to you, I am different from the ladies of the harem. Never have I learned embroidery or any other skill that might please your majesty." 

The multitudes of red layers were heavy, made him appear like a real bride, made Kenma almost feel as if he were. He had been married like one. His veil had been removed as if he were a real bride, even if he might seem unfit if not for his relation to the King of Nekoma.

"You know poetry." The argument against his own assessment surprised Kenma.

"I do."

"You've been raised to be a Lord." 

While not the heir, he was raised as if he were. Especially once his literary talents had been discovered. It was no secret. "I was."

“And yet, you never entered court discussions.” As a man, he should be trying to solidify his position in the government, striving for his family’s sake.

“I didn’t.” Not publicly, at the very least. There was no need to solidify his position when Kuro was the one reigning.

"Do you hunt?"

"I don't find much joy in it, but I'm willing to accompany your majesty if you wish." Kenma answered honestly.

"Have you been on royal hunts before?"

"Back in Nekoma, they were a frequent affair, yes." Kenma managed to avoid a pause before he said Nekoma. The word "home" was burning on his tongue, but he swallowed it down. Nothing on his face revealed the stirring of emotion.

The emperor, his husband, hummed and appeared to be playing with the thought of taking him to a hunt. There had to have been far more outrageous occurrences than that but Kenma was not the one to judge such affairs in Shiratorizawa. Nodding to himself, he came to a conclusion as his shoulders relaxed minutely.

It didn’t matter that Kenma had a reputation of being weak-bodied and sickly, it seemed.

"Your poetry is famous even here." 

Kenma angled his head, accepting the praise.

“Would Your Majesty like for me to recite my most recent piece?”

After a moment of considering, the emperor shook his head. Instead, he asked: "Do you play shogi?"

"I do."

"Are you good?"

"I ask you to assess my abilities for yourself, Your Majesty."

“I will, in due time.” 

Kenma allowed himself a smile. It was as much of a promise as he could hope for.

Despite the emperor settling, growing more comfortable, he upheld the distance a stranger would have. His lingering confused Kenma. Was he only looking for conversation? Or was he hesitating to ask for something else?

“Your Majesty, might I ask– Are you – uncomfortable with my gender?” Back in Nekoma, these kinds of couplings were no rarity but as Kenma had learned, it was frowned upon here. 

A twitch, not quite flinching but almost so. Kenma had hit the mark.

With his head held high, the emperor answered with silence once again. But for the first time, the silence exposed more than an answer could. It was an entryway, a path Kenma could follow.

With a deep breath, Kenma reiterated with a boldness that would be appalling if they had not concluded the wedding ceremony. “I am asking whether Your Majesty wishes to consummate our marriage.”

“Do you?” 

The emperor did not refuse him. He did not seem unwilling, did not seem to be opposed to the thought, contrary to his nation’s beliefs. Kenma angled his head minutely as he took in that detail.

He chose his answer carefully. “It is my duty to serve you. It is the duty I accepted when I agreed upon this arrangement.” It did not matter what he thought. “I do wish to.”

The emperor only answered in silence. And yet, the silence was still not refusal. He waited.

"I am not that indifferent about who I give my body to." Kenma elaborated when the silence continued. He was well aware that he could not face the future without giving something of his, something intimate. Something that could bloom the first seeds of trust. It was a compromise he was willing to make.

"I would never assume your majesty would accept any other arrangements." He kept his words vague but made sure the intent was clear.

The emperor paused. "What do you-"

The glint in Kenma's eyes revealed his thoughts so the emperor did not have to finish the question he was beginning to voice. Thoughts that could never be outspoken, the offense unimaginable. 

And he snorted. The emperor  _ snorted _ . It was the first tear in the stoic manner Kenma had seen so far. He tilted his head to observe the emperor calmly.  _ Interesting. _

"It's good to know your willfulness."

"I do have my pride."

Averting his gaze from Kenma's face, he was staring in the distance, lost in a memory from the past and subject of their conversation momentarily forgotten. "That sentence reminds me of someone."

"Someone important?" Kenma asked carefully as he felt the mood had just shifted. He had been close to an acknowledgement.

"A friend." 

It was an ambiguous answer at best. There was more to this friend, then, Kenma surmised.

It was apparent that this string of conversation was not something the emperor was willing to pursue. So, Kenma dropped it. He made sure to remember it, though. "Ah."

Then, he decided to trace back their conversation, back to the moment he saw something in the emperor’s posture change. "My willingness is not a front. I know my duties."

"You will desert your homeland."

"I already did.” In heaven’s eyes, they were married. “I'm bringing it peace."

The emperor mustered him; he was trying to see into Kenma’s very depths. It was bone shattering. It made sense that he was the one to single-handedly win the Great War when he had only been a Crown Prince. But Kenma was used to those kinds of gazes, was a carrier of them often enough. He had nothing to fear from those eyes that were looking for truth. He would make the truth whatever he needed it to be. This time, he was sincere.

" –  Alright."

The concession pleased Kenma far more than he had foreseen. It settled a satisfying warmth in his belly, something startlingly alike genuine contentment.

"Then, please be gentle with me, your Majesty."

And he was, surprisingly so. So very gentle. The oil he brought specifically to ease Kenma’s pain and the rigorous attention he paid when he was preparing him, intent on Kenma’s pleasure and the raising cry of his voice. Focussed on disrupting the rhythm of Kenma’s racing heart, to disrupt his calm and sending sparks of ecstasy along his spine. 

It was easy to get lost in the feeling of warm, calloused hands sliding along his body, the feeling of an even warmer and firm body sliding against his own, with only sweat and the prepared oil to slicken the friction. The thought of his husband being unwilling seemed ludicrous now as they consummated their marriage thoroughly, unmistakably and loudly.

It only appeared to Kenma later, when he was recovering from the ensuing high. That with his uncertainty the emperor had asked for his consent to consummate their marriage. The realization was distracting, throwing the picture he had of the emperor off skelter. 

He was unable to ponder on it longer, as the deep baritone spoke up again. “Our conversation was very insightful and your companionship proved to be enjoyable.” He was already getting dressed now but he would visit Kenma again. It was another one of those promises.

“It would be my pleasure to serve you, your Majesty.”

Accepting the phrase with a low grumble, he rested a hand on Kenma’s thigh, still naked but covered by the red fabric of Kenma’s wedding bed. A hand that had gripped that thigh only moments before. 

"When we are alone, call me Ushijima."

"Gladly."

Fully dressed once again, Ushijima turned to leave Kenma’s sleeping chambers.

His body tired and sore, Kenma stared after the retreating figure of the emperor. Then he stretched and didn’t fight the smile that curled on the edges of his lips. 

Tomorrow, he would greet the Empress.

The plan could be set in motion.

**Author's Note:**

> oh, the wedding was roughly based on a traditional chinese one (plus added writer's freedom) for anyone who's wondering
> 
> [|@Twitter](https://twitter.com/kentetsurou)


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